The home page listed the winning numbers drawn at six o’clock the previous evening in bold red text.

Fourteen, thirty-two, fifty-seven, and six ran across the top banner of the screen in exact order.

A small notification banner flashed across the bottom of the screen, saying that a single winning ticket had been sold in Oakridge, Ohio.

My hand started shaking so hard that the rubber phone case slid against my palm.

The phone slipped out of my numb fingers, fell two feet onto the kitchen tile, and landed face down beside my shoes.

The glass cracked across the top corner when it hit the tile, but the screen stayed lit against the floor.